


Letter From A King

by BakerStTardis (Sokashi)



Series: Hobbit Advent [13]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokashi/pseuds/BakerStTardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobbit Advent Day Twelve. Prompt home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letter From A King

**Author's Note:**

> This I'd running late and only a piece of what I intended. Sorry! The Desolation Of Smaug has my writing schedule all messed up! 
> 
> So this is part two. Read the last one before this one and there will be part three tomorrow.

Bilbo sat and stared at the letter for a long time. He didn't open it, didn't even touch it once he set it on the table with the pots and candles. The candlelight made shadows over the paper, made the stamp in the wax look menacing. It was a crow but Bilbo couldn't make out much more than that. He wasn't sure how long he sat and stared at it before he picked it up again. Instead of opening it, he lit a candle, but then didn't know what to hope. What could he hope that Thorin could have to say after everything? What did he want it to say? What was he scared of it saying? Bilbo stared at the flame and just hoped that when he read it that there would be a clear course of action for him to take. 

Standing, he tucked the letter into his pocket and headed down the hall. Fili and Kili were already snoring in the guest room, muddy boots dumped on either side of the bed. Frodo was collapsed across his bed, blankets not even pulled out from under him. The sight made Bilbo smile a little and he stopped to make the child a little more comfortable. Then he puttered around in his own bedroom, changing into a nightshirt and checking the fire, fluffing pillows and doing everything but actually looking at the letter sitting beside his bed. Eventually there was nothing but to face it. He considered for a minute waiting until morning but knowing Frodo, he'd be up early and demand attention and...no. It was best to take care of it now.

Bilbo lingered over the opening of it. The weight of the paper, perfectly creased. The snap of the seal, dark blue flakes of wax falling into his lap. Fili and Kili might've been a mess but the letter was perfect. Clean, unmarked, not even soiled by a dirty fingertip. Unfolded it proved to be two pieces of paper, the handwriting familiar in its heavy extravagance. The handwriting of a king.

 

To Master Baggins, Child of the Kindly West.

What can a king say to a friend he so wronged? Forgiveness was asked and given that day so long ago but I find as time passes that it is not enough. Your keen eyes and wise counsel are sorely missed as we rebuild Erebor. More, I miss our friendship. All that time ago I let you leave without protest, but it is one of my many regrets. We reclaimed Erebor and yet you have not reaped any reward for that. A bit of gold, perhaps, but you deserve the gratitude of kings. If you were to come back I would give you all and more. Titles, respect, the honor you deserve. Your own treasury and the rooms to keep it in. Only, I know you, Bilbo, and you want none of these things. 

As my own hand writes this I can think not of what to say to entice you back other than you are missed here. Greatly. So I offer what humble things I can. A request that you visit Erebor. To see what you've done for my people. The offer of a home here for the entirety of your life if you should find our company enough or if your green hills are too quiet now after our adventure. And the escort of my two nephews who have bugged me endlessly to do be the ones to come to you.

Know that you are missed by more than just me. All of the Company desires your presence. Your absence is a hole in every gathering. One that can be filled by nothing else. Not even time. But as ever I am a selfish dwarf. I want you to take my offer for me, Bilbo. To see you again and make right what I wronged. To hear your counsel on dealing with Bard and those blasted elves. To see that face you make at me when you think I'm being rather stupid. You're probably making it now, at the thought that I could ever need you, yet it is true.

Come to Erebor. Please. For a visit, if you like, but I offer you a home. My home. And everything in it.

Thorin

Bilbo stared. he realized that his eyes had teared up and wiped them, sniffing a couple of times. He reread the letter. Then a third time and found he was, indeed making the face he tended to use on Thorin. Torn between annoyance and some pleased part of himself, he turned the page to find a contract and snorted. Of course. Dwarves and their contracts. Nothing could be settled without one. He should've had one drawn up that day Thorin had asked and received his forgiveness just to give the dwarf king the comfort of having it down, legally binding.

Amused, he shook the contract out and noticed that it was at least shorter than the one for the quest before he started reading. "I, Bilbo Baggins...understand any banishment has been revoked....can never again be banished..." He grunted at that, but sped on. "I do here agree to come to Erebor for..." He snorted again at the options made for him to choose from. One said: A visit, length to be determined. The one below it just said: Forever. His eyes skimmed over various promises made that he had little interest in concerning what kind of quarters he'd be given and accolades he could expect. Then at the bottom was space for his signature and a witness', just below Thorin's and Balin's. 

Bilbo found himself smiling fondly at the contract but it faded slowly until he set the letter to the side and tucked himself down into bed. Just for tonight he'd pretend he could accept. Just tonight he'd let himself imagine Erebor full of people. Thorin standing to great him with a smile. A table filled with food and surrounded by the company making a mess and bellowing at each other at the top of their lungs. Tomorrow, in the morning, he'd face the truth of the situation.


End file.
